


It's Been a While

by zarabithia



Series: Porn Sunday [15]
Category: Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel 616
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-23
Updated: 2018-04-23
Packaged: 2019-04-26 21:37:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14411058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zarabithia/pseuds/zarabithia
Summary: It's been a while since Kate and Clint have gotten together to celebrate a victory. They make up for lost time.





	It's Been a While

It’s been a while.

The last time had been in California… no. _New York_ ; California had been before that. It’s New Orleans tonight - scratch that, this morning, because it’s been a while, but some things haven’t changed, and the way that they enter Kate’s apartment as the sun comes up, arms linked around each other’s waists, is one of them. 

The furniture has, however; the tacky purple chair Clint remembers digging his nails into is gone. The brownish couch that Clint remembers cuddling on while they’d idly fondled one another with Dog Cops playing in the background is also gone.

He has a moment of nostalgia for both pieces of furniture - they’d served so well, really - as Kate does her usual post-ass-kicking strip.

She plops down in the new mauve chair. As she throws a leg over one of the chair’s arms, she groans, and it’s not the fun kind that Clint wants to hear. It’s a groan from pain after a night of kicking ass. 

“You sure you’re up for it, Hawkeye?” he asks. “That was a pretty serious fall.”

It’s been a while, but her disdainful snort still makes him want to fall straight to his knees. He waits, though, for her reply.

“I’ve had worse. Get over here, Hawkeye.”

He doesn’t ask a second time. His kneels between her as fast as his own bruises and scars will allow; he doesn’t bother with the costume, because it hasn’t been long enough that she has stopped having a kink for him in the costume.

It hasn’t been long enough that he’s forgotten her taste or what she sounds like when his mouth closes in a kiss over her mound; both are things that have haunted, teased, and frustrated him every day that they’ve been apart. But memories are pathetic ghosts compared to the real thing and Clint can’t stop the low, needy grunt of his own that escapes as she slides further down in the chair, pushing herself more firmly against Clint’s mouth.

Clint smiles up at her as he puts his tongue to work, drawing the slow lazy circles that she equally hates and loves. He notes the deep scar across her lower belly, the lighter one between her ribs and the piercing that he doesn’t remember her having before.

All different, all new, and all to be explored later, Clint promises. But for know, he slides his hands under her to steady them both - she does not need it, perhaps, as much as he does - and is content to enjoy the sight of Kate turning her head, to let a muffled groan escape into her own elbow.

He’s so glad that the hearing aides are working, because it’s been a while, but that’s still Clint’s favorite sound in the world.


End file.
